Somebody do something!" Draco's hands scrape against the cold pavement as he attempts to collect the stream of crimson flowing from the wound in his wife's chest. "Is this not a bloody fucking hospital?" He yells, knowing that he doesn't have the skills to stop Hermione from being ripped away from him.
"Sir, we need you to step aside so we can help her." A firm hand on his shoulder pulls him back, causing him to stumble slightly. He watches her body, normally so full of life, hang limply as two muggle medics lift her onto a stretcher, before rushing her through the doors of the emergency room. He tries to follow them through the automatic doors but is stopped by an orderly who places a firm hand against his chest.
"I can't let you through sir. We'll provide updates as they become available." The orderly is a tall woman with blonde hair not dissimilar to his own, with red-painted lips.
"You're barmy if you think I'm not going with them. Open the doors now so I can see my wife." He forces as much steel into his voice as he can, believing he can get to Hermione through sheer force of will.
"As I've said sir, we will provide updates as they become available. You would only serve as a distraction if I were to let you back there. If you want the best care for your wife, you will wait out here." The woman's tone softens as she adds. "I understand how worried you are, but we will do everything we can to help her." Draco nods sharply, knowing that he isn't going to get anywhere with the woman, but he has no plans of waiting in the lobby. No, he is going after the man responsible for his wife's life hanging in the balance. Ronald Weasley.
Turning sharply, Draco exits the waiting room into the cold December air. The red and blue lights and blare of the police car instantly assault his senses. Taking in the scene he can see that Weasley has already fled, not that he is surprised.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts he pulls the sleek cell phone Hermione had bought him last Christmas from his pocket, dialing his closest friend, Harry Potter.
"Draco, I thought you and Hermione were going for dinner tonight. Change of plans?" Harry's voice is strained, Draco thinks he is most likely chasing one of his four children through the house, readying them for bath time.
"He shot her Harry. He shot Hermione." He manages to choke out.
"What?! Hermione was shot? Who shot her?" The sound of a child squealing in delight contrasted with his own dark emotions threatening to either burn him to the ground or create an inferno that would rage until his blood lust was satisfied. Either way, he would end up as a pile of smoldering pile of ash.
"Weasley. I was meeting Hermione at the end of her shift. We were getting ready to walk to the apparition point when he walked up and shot her." A fresh wave of emotion threatens to burst through the damn he's created in his mind. "Merlin Harry. There was so much blood. I-, I couldn't do anything to stop it." He says before releasing a shuddering breath.
"I'm on my way Draco. Don't do anything rash." The sound of a door slamming on the other end of the phone propels Draco further.
"Stay with Hermione Harry. I'm going to hunt the Weasel down and when I find him, I will rip him to shreds, limb from limb he will feel the pain he caused my wife tenfold." Draco ends the call as Harry tells him to wait. He knows that what will come from further conversation is Harry trying to convince him to let Weasley go and hand the situation over to the aurors. No, that would not satisfy his need for revenge. Weasley's jealousy of Draco's relationship with Hermione had spanned over twelve years and the culmination of that jealousy had finally come to fruition in the form of a bullet in his wife's chest.
Their relationship had started as a budding friendship in their eighth year at Hogwarts. Draco and a few other older Slytherins had decided to return and complete the year they had missed. At the start of the year, Hermione had tried to befriend Draco but his shame for his past decisions had left him feeling unworthy of her attention. Eventually, her persistence had paid off, she weaseled her way into a friendship with Theo and by connection, himself. Forced proximity would do that, he thought. In that time, he'd found that he and Granger had many things in common, their passion for literature being the most prominent similarity. She'd introduced him to many Muggle authors that became some of his favorites. Many late nights had been spent in the library; heads bent together over a text. He recalls the first time they kissed.
"Granger, you simply have it wrong. In no universe would you ever combine crushed unicorn horn with murtlap essence. The combination would be disastrous."
"Don't be so simple-minded Draco. The properties commonly found in unicorn horn mixed with murltap essence could prove to be revolutionary for what we understand of healing potions." Hermione was thankful she had tied her hair in a knot as she could feel herself overheating in her determination to prove her point. Draco had stopped paying attention to the debate altogether, noticing the way her hazel eyes sparkled when she spoke of her passions. An arrant curl had fallen from her clip, reminding Draco how much he loved her wild curls. Bringing a hand forward, he pulls the clip loose and watches as the ringlets frame her face.
"So beautiful," Draco says the words he's replayed in his mind a thousand times, not realizing he's spoken aloud.
"You think I'm beautiful?" Hermione says just as softly, waiting for his response with bated breath.
"How could I not?" With confidence he hasn't felt in quite some time, he pulls forward, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. A kiss that says everything all at once without words. The connection they had was real and it was more than friendship. In that kiss, Draco knew he would spend the rest of his life making this witch his own and hoping she would make him hers in return.
Draco pulls away first, desperate to read the emotions in her eyes.
"Wow. So that's what that feels like." Hermione says, touching her lips softly where they had connected.
"Yeah, that's what that feels like Granger." He knew exactly what she was trying to say at that moment. He'd kissed many witches before but had never felt that type of connection before. From that point onward they spent every free moment together, resulting in the melding of their friend groups. The only one who resisted the relationship had been Weasley, he refused to accept their relationship and had deluded himself into believing Hermione would change her mind and decide to be with him instead. It had been a point of contention between Potter and himself for some time but the two had worked through their differences and found common ground, resulting in a decade-long friendship.
Draco stumbles slightly but doesn't stop his forward movement after apparating in front of the apartment building he knows Weasley inhabits.
Craving a more violent method, he kicks the door in to unit seven rather than use his wand.
"Weasley! You are dead when I find you, you can run all you like but there is no place that you can hide from me." His voice resonates through the barren apartment, only furnished with cheap furniture, beer cans litter the poor excuse for a table and the smell of filth permeates the air. After searching the small bedroom and connecting balcony he can see that the owner has long since fled if he'd come here at all.
How is she? He texts Harry, multiple dots appear and reappear on the screen before the final damning message comes through.
Lost her Pretty words are commonly used to describe the emotions one may feel in tragedies such as this but to actually experience it is another thing. Something Draco would never be able to prepare himself for. He is sure his heart has cracked in two from the bone-deep sorrow that continuously leaks from the organ. He feels the sharp pain in his throat before he realizes the violent screams are coming from him, being ripped involuntarily from his chest.
Knowing he has no desire to speak to anyone he throws his phone through the closed window, shattering the glass in the process.
Pulling on every bit of magic he can muster within himself he does the only thing he can think of to find Weasley. Knowing that its suicide means nothing to him. Focusing all of his thoughts on Weasley's red hair and pale, freckled skin he apparates.
A tearing sensation rips through Draco's shoulder, sending waves of pain radiating down his arm. He knows he's been splinched but can't find the energy to care.
"Blood hell Malfoy. Are you mad?" He feels a deep sense of satisfaction at the freckled fucks voice. At least he will die knowing he avenged his love. He really didn't fancy the idea of living without her anyway.
"If I am mad Weasley, we know whose fault that is." Draco casts a stunner, causing Weasley to drop his wand which Draco quickly summons, knowing he won't live through another apparition.
"You will take much joy from the knowledge that Hermione is dead Weasley. I, however, am quite upset by the fact, as is to be expected. I can think of only one thing that might cheer me up." He lets a sinister smile take over his features before three stinging jinxes in quick succession.
"Look Malfoy, I lost control when I heard the news. I am so sorry, please if you let me go, you'll never hear from me again." Draco pauses, confused at Weasley's words.
"What news Weasley and talk fast, I don't have much patience at the moment."
"Harry let it slip that she was pregnant. Look, I know it's really over between us. Please, Malfoy. Let me go."
If Draco thought, he had felt pain at the news of his wife's death then he was a fool because this was true pain. Heaving sobs wrack his body as he processes the loss of not only his wife but his unborn child whom he was unaware of. Hermione had asked him to dinner tonight and he was now certain that she had planned on telling him.
"Of course, it's over you fuck! My wife is dead, and you murdered my child as well. There is nothing left for either of us today, Ronald Weasley." Tears stream down Weasley's face as he shakes his head in desperation.
"Avada Kedavra," Draco says his last words before falling to his knees, a pool of crimson pooling beneath him. His lifeless body crashes to the floor next to Ron Weasley, neither to take another breath.
"You must find him, Harry. He isn't answering his phone and I'm worried sick. He's going to do something he regrets." Hermione's voice is faint after having surgery, the bullet had nicked her lung but other than that she was incredibly fortunate to have avoided more serious injuries.
"I've got auror's out looking for him, Hermione. I'm sure he's okay. How are you feeling, the baby doing okay?" He asks in an attempt to distract her.
"Baby and I are both okay. The part that makes me most angry about the whole situation is that I was planning on telling Draco tonight and Ron took that away. Now that is what we will think about when we recall the news of our first child." She puts as much irritation in her voice as she can muster.
"Well, we will have to plan a new announcement then- "The shrill ring from Harry's phone cuts off his next thought.
"Potter here." Hermione can see the change overtake Harry, like a balloon that has the air let out of it, a deep deflation to everything within himself. Removing his glasses to cover his eyes he nods. "Understood, please handle the cleanup and report to Finnigan for the remainder of the updates. Do not contact me unless it's an absolute emergency."
"FUCK!" Harry yells harshly before slamming his phone on the bedside table. Tears stream down his reddened face. "Hermione." He cries.
"Don't say it, Harry. Do not say those next words because then it isn't true." Her own heartbreak tries to escape the confines of her denial.
"I'm so sorry Hermione. He's gone, he killed Ron and they said he splinched himself. He succumbed to his injuries, and he's gone. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." Refusing to believe Harry's words she demands to see his phone.
Opening his text messages to Draco she reads.
8:30 PM-Lost her.
8:35 PM-Sorry! talk to text she's okay.
8:36PM-Thought we lost her but she's okay.
8:50 Are you with me?
9:10 PM -Draco, answer me.
9:20PM-Come back to the hospital and we'll deal with Ron together.
The reality of what transpired dawns on her, anger is the prominent emotion swimming through her veins. "You waited five minutes to tell my husband that you were wrong. You waited five minutes to tell him I was alive, Harry. Do you realize what you've done?"
"No, I- I was texting Draco that we hit a rough spot, but you were okay. My phone cut off and I got distracted by everything happening. This can't be, this isn't why he stopped responding."
"Trace Draco's phone, now." She demands, refusing to let anything but anger through her wall.
Harry taps his screen a few times, locating Draco's phone at Ron's apartment. She watches the emotions flit like a movie across his face. Shock, anger, sadness, and acceptance. Acceptance that his message was the catalyst for Draco's death.
"Hermione, there are no words- "
"You're right Harry, there are no words. Please leave." She turns to her side, giving Harry her back.
The sound of the door clicking shut broke the damn within her mind. Breathless sobs tore through her body, her baby would never know their father and she would never hear the sound of her husband's laugh again, never hear the sweet words of nothingness he always whispered to her in the early hours of the morning, just the two of them awake, savoring the quiet surrounding them.
The wrenching sobs continue until sleep finally pulls her under where she dreams of a lover's touch, a blonde baby in his father's arms, and a life full of happiness, knowing that it's the only place she will see her love until her time comes to pass.